


My Religion

by Impala_Dreamer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Light Smut, M/M, Romance, Smangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 13:22:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15220055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Dreamer/pseuds/Impala_Dreamer
Summary: ~Castiel is alive and Dean’s not going to ever let him go again.~ Reworking of s13 e6, Castiel's Return.





	My Religion

The drive there was almost impossible.

Dean couldn’t focus on the road. White lines blurred in the edges of his vision, street lamps became starbursts on the glass. He gripped the wheel, pushed down on the gas, trying to keep the Impala steady, but it was hard to remember how to drive. It was hard to remember how to breathe, how to sit in that old leather seat and fly over the miles.

All he could think of was Cas.

He still couldn’t believe it. He had prayed so hard, fought so long, and out of nowhere a phone call… a simple phone call. An unknown number, Cas’s voice… it was too much. The darkness on his heart told him not to get his hopes up; it could be a trick, some evil prank, some trap to stop him for good.

But he had to hope.

Dean turned his face to the window as a tear fell. He’d been so careful to hold them back until then, but it was getting harder to see. Sam noticed the quick movement and cleared his throat.

“I’m sure he's…” Sam stalled, unsure of what to say.

“Yeah,” Dean whispered as his knuckles cleared the wetness from his cheek.

And silence fell once more.

 

There was a gleem to everything after the rain.

The Impala shone in the dark, each raindrop on her black paint catching the neon signs and street lights as they rode down the alleyway. They splashed through puddles and disturbed a few oil spills, but the tires were true, and Dean could see the end.

He parked and shut the engine, but for a long moment could not bring himself to let go of the wheel. He stared out the window, unbelieving eyes locked on the figure some yards away. A mess of black hair, the old tan trench coat; but still he couldn’t let himself relax. 

Pebbles on the pavement crunched under his boots. The door creaked as he shoved it closed. His breath seemed so loud in his ears, competing with the rapid drum of his heart.

“Cas, is that really you?” His voice sounded strange, the air felt heavy as he sucked it in.

Castiel nodded as he stepped forward.

“No, you’re… you’re dead.” Sam spoke up, just as shocked as Dean.

“Yeah, I-I was…” Cas answered, shrugging slightly, his voice deep and familiar. “But then I… annoyed an ancient cosmic being so much that he sent me back.”

If there was more, Dean couldn’t follow it. Cas walked towards them, explaining to Sam what had happened to him, but Dean was locked in the moment. He felt like he was moving through mercury. The world seemed strange, his vision was blurry. He felt every muscle, every cell inside of him, as if his blood was alive and screaming as if flowed through the rivers of his veins.

Next to Dean, Sam let out a shocked laugh, his eyes darting around in amazement. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Cas paused, but Dean took a step, his mind and heart finally catching up with each other. It was Cas. He was real. He was alive.

“I do,” he said, moving to catch Cas in a hug. “Welcome home, pal.”

Dean’s arms fit around Castiel’s shoulders, his chin slid into place at the crook of his neck. It was really him. Solid, warm, real.

When Castiel’s hands closed around Dean’s middle, something inside of him snapped. Tears broke free from his closed eyes, spilling onto the trench coat, dampening the fabric with dark, expanding circles.

Dean knew it was going on too long, but he couldn’t let go. Thankfully, Cas didn’t try to pull away. When Dean pulled tighter, so did Cas, and the two rocked together gently in the damp night.

“I lost you,” Dean whispered into Cas’s collar. His breath was warm and Cas sighed deeply.

“I’m here.”

Dean was reeling; that dark shadow on his heart fading away with each second that passed. He took a breath and buried his face in Castiel’s shoulder, hiding his lips as the words slipped out.

“I love you.”

There was no thunder, no lightning; the world did not screech to a halt. The air around them remained damp and heavy, the alleyway silent but for Cas’s reply:

“I love you too, Dean.”

The breath he took then felt like his first ever. Dean’s tears dried instantly and the ever present knot in his chest finally untangled itself. He patted Cas’s back and let go, a true smile gracing his lips as he stepped back.

Sam hadn’t heard their confessions, and dove in for a hug, pulling his friend close.

Castiel’s eyes never left Dean’s.

Blue found green in the rearview. 

The road home wasn’t long, but it felt like forever to Dean. Neither man said a word, but there was a buzzing in the air that even Sam picked up on.

Sam tried to make small talk, to fill Cas in on what had happened while he was gone, but Cas wasn’t really listening. He and Dean were dancing in the strange new tension that pulsed between them.

Dean wanted to say something, to pull the car over, wrench open the back door, grab Cas by his lapels and drag him from the car. He wanted to look into his eyes and say it again, face to face. To shove him up against Baby’s hood and finally do what he’d always wanted to do; let his hands and lips do the talking, but he couldn’t. Not yet. There were things left to do.

Their return to the Bunker was a happy one. Jack and Castiel took to each other instantly, reuniting even though it was technically their first meeting.

When the hellos were completed, and a plan in place for a new case, everyone went their separate ways for the night. Everyone except Dean, who nodded subtly to Cas, bidding him to follow as he set off down the hallway.

Dean didn’t look back, but he knew Cas was behind him. He could feel his eyes on him, watching each movement as he trekked to room eleven. Dean closed his eyes with every other breath, his heart beginning to race again. He had no plan, no speech prepared, no idea what he was doing, but he had to do something.

The gentle thunder of boots.

The click of Cas’s heels crashing upon the tiles.

The sway of heavy fabrics.

The bed was made and the room was tidy, just as Dean had left it. His habit of leaving motel rooms messy for almost forty years did not extend to his personal space. He pushed open the door and politely stepped aside, allowing Castiel to enter first.

Cas turned as the door shut, its ancient latch catching easily. Dean’s hand lingered on the brass, fingertips tracing the ornate lines on the knob. His mind was reeling, sure but unsure, ready but terrified. Again, he felt Cas watching him, but his stare wasn’t painful, it was exciting and uplifting, exposing and intoxicating.

Dean turned slowly and faced his friend. Castiel’s expression was calm but not without worry, as if he were waging the same internal debate as Dean.

Ten years of silence had been broken; there was only one more step to take.

How many hours had they spent staring, how many years of denied passion?

‘Well, no more,’ Dean thought as he stepped forward, his chest rising quickly with each rapid heartbeat. His palms were sweating suddenly, and he wiped them on his thighs; green eyes locked on his target, mouth watering at the simple thought.

Their toes met; shoes butted up against each other, black on brown.

Their knees touched; denim on slacks.

Cas blinked as Dean looked on, thick black lashes fanning, fluttering, begging.

Dean held his breath.

He’d been there before with many others; a sloppy night here and there, drunken kisses behind the wheel and wandering hands in the shadows. But this was different. This was Cas. It had to be perfect.

Cas opened his eyes again and Dean gasped. The blue was so rich, so deep, that Dean felt himself falling into the galaxy before him, and he smiled.

“Hey, Buddy.”

The corner of Castiel’s mouth turned upwards and that was all Dean needed. He leaned forward, gently pressing his lips to Cas’s, his entire body softening at the touch. His shoulders relaxed, his mind calmed, his heart slowed. The world did come to a halt in that moment, letting Dean memorize the exact second that everything changed. The universe slowed for him, giving him an eternity to remember how soft and warm Cas’s lips were, how rough the hair above his lips felt, how his lips parted just so.

Without thinking, Dean slipped his tongue into the gap and Castiel let out the most seductive noise Dean had ever heard. It was a true, unconscious, lustful moan that rang through Dean, igniting a long ignored fire inside of him. He kissed him harder, tilting his head to get a better angle, breathing into Cas, letting his heart take over.

Dean raised a hand to cup Cas’s cheek, and the angel moaned again, wrapping his thick fingers around Dean’s wrist.

The pressure of his hand jolted Dean from the moment, and a wave of panic struck him hard in the chest. He pulled back, panting and nervous, afraid suddenly of what it all meant.

‘I love you’ could be explained a thousand different ways.

A kiss could be a mistake.

But there was no coming back from this, from the burning lust in Dean’s gut; from the vibrating whimper in the back of Cas’s throat.

Dean closed his eyes, his lips trembling and wet. “Cas, I…”

Cas tightened his hold on Dean’s wrist and slowly dragged it downward from his cheek to the thin space between them. “Touch me, Dean.”

Cas turned Dean’s hand and pushed his hips forward, pressing his nervous palm against his cock.

“Need you,” he breathed.

Dean’s eyes flew open and his blood sang, allowing himself finally to feel, to act, to believe. Fuck the consequences, he thought. We deserve this. We’ve earned this.

Dean peeled the trench coat from Castiel’s back. He dropped the tie to the floor.

Each tiny button was opened with a kiss, every layer of fabric removed with care and reverence. When Cas was down to his plain white boxers, Dean stepped back an inch to look him over, losing his breath at the beauty he beheld. He was thick and sturdy; hard lines and ample muscles hidden beneath so many layers for so long. Dean’s eyes traveled the length of him, wondering why he’d waited so long.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, laying a soft hand on Castiel’s ribs; calloused fingertips tracing the ink on his left side.

A blush lit Cas’s cheeks and Dean rushed forward again, wanting to feel the burn beneath his lips. He kissed the apples of each cheek, the shadow on his jaw. He closed each eyelid and parted his pink lips once more.

Dean had no trouble touching him now. He slid his hands through silken black hair as he cradled Cas’s head, locking him in place while he lay his lips whenever he pleased. Cas tasted like springtime, like sunrise dew on fresh grass, and Dean basked in that sunshine, his entire body desperate to touch and remember.

“Goddamnit, Cas,” he growled, feeling Cas’s hip bones rock against his.

Cas slid his hands up Dean’s chest and toyed with the buttons on his flannel, trying to rip them away. He fumbled and hissed in frustration, making Dean laugh.

“I got it,” he whispered when Cas huffed.

“I’ve never undressed a man before,” Castiel admitted in apology, looking ashamed.

Dean closed his big hand around Cas’s and brought it to his lips. “I got it,” he said again, green eyes sparkling with a grin.

A playful shove pushed Cas down onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, moulding around him.

Castiel watched with widening eyes as Dean stripped. He had seen the hunter naked before, often popping in at the wrong moments, or when injury left him exposed, but this was special. This was all for Cas. Every freckle was his to discover, every soft patch of flesh his to touch.

“You’re staring,” Dean said with a shy smile, rubbing bashfully at the back of his neck. He dipped his chin and looked up at Cas, meeting a gaze he was unfamiliar with. It was hungry and lustful, yet filled with pure love.

“Do you know how exquisitely beautiful you are?” he asked, refusing to look away or ease his intensity.

Dean’s smile fell. He shook his head slowly. “No.”

Cas stood and took a step towards him, reaching a hand to Dean’s arm. He ran his fingers up from his wrist to shoulder, lovingly mapping the rough surface Dean’s skin. “Absolutely beautiful,” he said, his voice deep and true. “This body…” His hand swirled around Dean’s shoulder and down his chest, stopping just above his heart. “This soul.” Cas lingered there, curling his fingertips against his smooth chest.

Dean closed his eyes and melted into Cas’s touch. He fell forward and wrapped him in a hug, clinging to the Angel with desperate hands, burying his face in his neck.

“I thought I lost you forever.” His breath was quickening, his mind racing with memory. “I burned you. We… I…”

Castiel held him tight, whispering against Dean’s ear, running a calming hand down his spine. “I will always come home to you, Dean. No matter what.”

The tears were kissed away, lifted by tender lips. They lay down together, bodies finding their place against each other; arms and legs getting lost in a sea with no start or end.

Dean let go of everything in Castiel’s arms, giving in to every late night fantasy and lazy daydream. He nipped and sucked, licked and kissed. He raked his blunt nails over Cas’s skin and bit down into delicious flesh.

The Angel was loud, humming and moaning wordlessly as Dean scraped his teeth over the head of his cock. Dean was in awe of him, watching in amazement as Cas’s control over his vessel waned. His thighs shook, his lungs burned, his lip dented beneath his teeth.

If Dean had known pleasure before that night, it couldn’t hold a candle to this. He had Cas, finally, open and ready for him; blue eyes rolling back as Dean sank inside of him.

He was mesmerized, drinking in every twitch of Castiel’s beautiful face, every desperate moan. Cas fell apart beneath him, and Dean took his time, pulling at each seam until there was nowhere left to hide.

 

Cas cleaned them both up with a magical wave of his hand, and they collapsed onto the single pillow on Dean’s bed, foreheads touching, breaths mixing in the cool Bunker air.

“We’re gonna have to get you a pillow, Cas,” Dean laughed, squirming a bit as he found the sweet spot on the bed. His knees bent against Castiel’s; their fingers fit perfectly together.

“I don’t sleep,” Cas reminded him even as a yawn broke free, making them both laugh. “But I could rest here, with you,” he admitted. “If you want me.”

“I want you.” It was an answer and a vow. Dean had never wanted anything or anyone so much as he wanted Cas, and it was time he knew. “I’ve always wanted you.” His lips brushed Cas’s knuckles. He traced the line of Cas’s jaw with two gentle fingers. “It’s never been a question, Cas. It’s… it’s always been you. There’s no decision for me. There’s no choice. It’s always been you.”

Castiel sighed and let his eyes drift closed, a sweet, contented smile upon his big lips.

“I’m glad you’re home,” Dean whispered, fighting sleep’s pull, wanting to stay awake forever and stare.

“Home,” Cas mimicked, letting out a sleepy breath.

Dean’s grip on his hand tightened, and he closed his eyes. “Home.”


End file.
